The Ancestors
by Admiral Zaal'Koris
Summary: This is an epic, retold to each generation of Quarians in their youth. It tells the story of the ancient Quarians, and how the modern Quarian people came to be shaped by one lone boy. It is a story of intrigue, of love, and ultimately of unification. This is a story for any Quarian enthusiast, or interested in Mass Effect lore.
1. Prologue

**This is a project that I started a long time ago, and never really finished. I plan on finishing this, and Priority: Haestrom over this summer (hopefully)**

 **I hope you all enjoy!**

 **Keelah se'lai**

Prologue:

The collage of reds, oranges, and yellows eventually subsided as Kaeli'Steiz began its arduous descent below the horizon in a beautiful, brilliant sunset. Zaal'Koris's eyes followed the light-bringer to Rannoch until the sky was painted purple and Kaeli'Steiz was no longer in sight. He had a tradition of watching the sunset since that faithful day when the Quarian race set aside their differences with their children, the Geth, "His greatest victory," he called it. He smiled at the memory of it, knowing those days were gone and dead. That had been approximately sixteen years ago. Times had changed. Some for good, others for bad. That's why he liked the sunset, it always stayed the same, never changing. It was a daily reminder that they'd finally gotten what they had fought to retake for three hundred years: Rannoch.

He shivered as he felt the temperature begin its rapid drop, as was common in the desert. The desert winds felt wonderful against Zaal's exposed white-gray skin as he relished in the fact that quarians could finally live without the suit for short periods of time. Deciding that he had been out far longer than what was necessary, he reentered his living complex to be greeted by his wife, Gola'Koris. She was without her suit as well, but she could remain out of her suit for much longer periods due to technological augmentation. They met in a brief, yet passionate, kiss.

After their lips parted he said, "So, did you put Unna to bed?" Asking about their fifteen year old daughter.

Gola rolled her eyes, "No, she's refusing to. She says she wants to see you." Unna was increasingly becoming more and more like her father, headstrong and stubborn, a free spirit. Although, these were not bad qualities, Zaal actually prided himself for his tenacity; it had served him well as an Admiral.

"I wonder why..." he murmured.

Gola shrugged, "She didn't say why. Just that she wanted to see you." She smiled, placing a hand on her forehead, and shaking her head, "Teens."

"Don't worry, I will take care of it," Zaal said as he leaned over and kissed Gola on the forehead. He quickly put his suit back on, feeling less exposed than he had been previously.

He climbed the stairs, feeling some pain in his legs as he did so. His bones, at times, gave him trouble; they were growing weaker as he grew older. Zaal was past prime for Quarians; he was at an age of fifty-three.

He finally reached Unna's room and slowly cracked open the door. "Unna, can I come in?"

Unna was lying on her bed, reading one of her beloved books. She too was without her suit. She set her book aside and sat up, propping herself up on her elbows. "Of course, Dad." She said with a wave of her uncovered hand towards him. Zaal praised the Ancestors again for the fact that his daughter would not require any sort of environmental suit anymore, at least not on Rannoch. Their generation's immune systems were in much better condition than previous generations that had been born on the Fleet. Because, it had been suggested by the new government that, for the first twelve years of life, every Quarian child remain outside their suit or bubble for a good two to three hours a day, and were also subject to multiple vaccinations every few months, oftentimes getting constantly sick. But, it was worth it, the procedures worked.

Zaal entered her room, approached the bed, and took a seat, "I heard you were giving your mother some trouble. Something about refusing to go to bed?"

She shifted uncomfortably, "Yes... But I wanted to see you; you tell the best stories."

Zaal raised one of his eyebrows in a bemused expression, "Oh, so it is a story you want? Aren't you a little old for that?"

She giggled, "I'll never be too old."

Zaal grinned; he loved it when she laughed. He quickly checked the time, "Alright, I have a story for you, but it will take multiple nights in order to tell it. It is a long story, one which I never told you. It was passed down by my father, by his father, and by-"

"I get the picture, Dad. It's a really old story." She interrupted with a grin.

"-It goes back 5,000 years, to when the Quarian race was still a shattered state, and how one man changed that forever."

Unna's eyes were wide, already entrapped in the story. Zaal continued, "It is a story of love, loss, betrayal, unity, and most importantly, The Ancestors. It starts with a young boy..."

 **Beta-read by fallenangel8794/Druzhnik**


	2. Chapter 1: A Boy

**Next chapter will be posted on 4/4/16**

 **Edited 4/1/16 for more believable dialogue, general edits**

 **Edited 4/2/16 - More edits**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

Chapter One: A Boy

 _Unna: So, it took place 5,000 years before the Morning War? Their technology must've been ancient._

 _Zaal: It was ancient. From 10,000 BCE to 3,000 BCE, Quarians lived almost the exact same way, in small clans or in small hamlets of clans which constantly fought against rival clans for supremacy._

 _Unna: So, the Quarians went from small clans to the space age in under 3,000 years? That's an impressive feat._

 _Zaal: Yes, it most certainly is, and it's all thanks to this one boy._

 _Unna: So... How does this boy go about ending 7,000 years of violence?_

 _Zaal: Well, I'm not going to ruin the story for you! Also, spoilers; the first part is pretty sad. I hope you have some tissues at hand._

 _Unna: (Rolls eyes)_

 _Zaal: So, it all began..._

 **3,007 B.C.E, Rannoch:**

The young boy laid on the cold, unceasing ground. He felt as if everything was collapsing on him, that the Gods themselves were torturing his poor mind with a terrible dream, the one that he had dreamt for months on end. Except, this was no dream. This was real; as real as Kaeli'Steiz was bright. Rannoch's star crept over the boundless horizon. The sky was tinged with a very specific color as if it had foreseen what would occur this morning. It was a blood red dawn.

(Kaeli'Steiz- Warmth's herald.)

Death, the smell of burning bodies and cloth filled the small boy's nose and abruptly woke him. He glanced around his small dwelling, made out of yellow stone. He was alone, abandoned. He listened to the sound of the cut off shrieks as his clan was mercilessly slaughtered by a rival clan. He was too young to understand the politics of it all, but old enough to know what was going on. He was almost ten.

He sat up just in time to see a pale lavender body collapse in front of his dwelling; a sword had run her through. He could recognize that beautiful purple face anywhere, "Mother!" He cried out. Her lifeless, unblinking, glazed over blue eyes showed no sign of recognition to the cry.

He was about to cry out again when a white-gray hand roughly closed around his mouth, stopping him from doing so. "Shhh, be quiet, Ne'vode." Whispered a voice from behind.

(Ne'vode- My son. Term of endearment.)

The boy glanced back at the source of the hand, "Father!" He said, his voice still muffled by the hand. His father's eyes were red-rimmed as he stared at his mate's unmoving body, looking for any signs of life whatsoever.

"I'm here, son. Daddy is here. Daddy will protect you." His father tried to say soothingly, but his voice cracked while saying it; fear was piercing his soul. He lowered his hand off of his son's mouth.

The boy gazed downwards, his Father was tightly gripping a slender, pointed knife in other hand and held it close to his body; ready to protect his only son to his dying breath. The boy couldn't help but think, 'Why? Why do we torture ourselves this way, pitting clan against clan? It's stupid, senseless, without reason.'

"Father, where's Mihrea? What's happened to Mother?" He asked in a puzzled tone, he turned back to the body, located not twenty feet away from him, and couldn't take his eyes off of it.

His father's eyes went blank as he stared a million miles away. "Your Mother and Mihrea went off to fight the raiders. Your mother has joined the place where no mortal can reach, your sister... I don't know what happened to-" He stopped speaking altogether as a body eclipsed the sunlight that passed through the entrance to the dwelling.

A female Quarian walked over to his mother's body. She was adorned with several pieces of metal for protection; it occasionally clinked together as she walked. What wasn't covered in metal consisted of loose fitting cloth, a Realk, which protected her against the harsh desert winds. She stood over the body and tugged on the handle of the sword, which came loose with a sickening wet slurp. The tip of the sword was covered in red blood, his mother's blood.

(Realk- Traditional Quarian cloth.)

The Father released his grip on the boy and steeled his gaze on his mate's killer. He stood up and clenched the knife even tighter. Then, in a split second, he was running at her. "You bosh'tet!" He screamed at the top of his lungs.

The woman spun around in surprise and tried to back away from Father, who was swinging his knife like a madman. He got in one lucky hit. It burrowed about an inch into her shoulder. She groaned in pain and sprinted back a few meters to catch her bearings on this new competitor. She swiftly examined her wound and braced herself in a fighting stance, her sword held high above her head.

The boy's heart leaped when he saw his father get a hit off her. Then, sank the next instant when he saw just how she was preparing herself for the upcoming battle. She was clearly the superior fighter, probably having been trained to fight from birth, as was standard with most females. Because the females were the dominant ones in Quarian society, his father had next to no fighting experience. He tended to the children, prepared meals and cleaned.

His father, too inexperienced to be intimidated by her, rushed ahead angrily and went for her torso. She lazily changed her stance and easily blocked the rage induced attack. Metal clanged against metal briefly, and with her strength, she forced father back. Then, with a sweeping horizontal strike with her sword, she sliced through father's belly.

Several expressions went through Father's face at once, one of shock, one of pain, and one of fear as he clutched his stomach and toppled to the ground, blood seeping out of his wound, covering the area around him with it. He rolled over onto his side, getting a last look at his son, "I'm so sorry," he mouthed at the boy. Then his eyes went out of focus and his muscles lost their tension. Forever. The boy knew that for the rest of his life, he'd never stop seeing that empty expression left by death.

The female, noticing the boy the first time, swiped the knife off of Father's body, and made deliberate strides towards the boy. Her intent was obvious.

The boy stumbled away from her, but to no avail. She quickly caught up to him and raised her blood-soaked sword high over her head. The boy's heart hammered against his chest and he closed his eyes, knowing what would come next.

He waited.

And he waited.

After about a minute of waiting he cracked open his eyes. The female's sword was faltering; she had no trouble killing the mother or father, but a small defenseless child? Where was the honor in that?

She gradually lowered her sword and lifted the helmet off her head, white-gray skin shining in the early morning sunlight. She tugged down the cloth covering her mouth and nose, revealing a small curved nose and a gentle face. Her brown eyes were soft, comforting, even though the boy knew what atrocities she had recently committed. "What's your name?" She asked the boy tenderly, she had a soft spoken voice, almost motherly.

She was beautiful. She had a lithe figure, a beautifully sculpted face, and she was very proportional. This however, did not diminish the fear that the boy felt, or the enmity towards her person.

"My... My name?" The boy responded unsurely, breathing heavily, heart still hammering in his chest, "My name is... Tel'Zen." He answered reluctantly as his mind caught up with his body, deciding it was best to answer her questions, lest she raise her sword again and hack him to pieces.

"Tel'Zen?" She smiled warmly as she repeated his name, "I'm Xenya'Zorah." She sheathed her sword and reached out her hand to Tel, meaning for him to take it. All he did was stare at the hand then back up at her.

 _Unna: Sorry to interrupt, but his name is Tel'Zen? As in Telyzn, the Khelish word for peace?_

 _Zaal: Indeed it is. His name is directly associated with the word. And you'll find out why soon enough..._

 _(Before Zaal can continue) Unna: Also, the Zorahs are in this story as well?! Are they in_ _ **every**_ _Quarian story?_

 _Zaal: Don't fret, our clan has a special part in this story as well. A very special part. Now, no more interruptions. Where was I again? Ah, yes..._

"Why?" He asked, his eyes wide open with bewilderment.

"Why what?"

"Why don't you kill me, like you did my parents?" He asked in a dumbfounded tone.

Her smile wavered, and she put her left hand over her stomach, "This might be hard for you to grasp, but I cannot bear children." She admitted with a little hesitation. "I've been with many males," She explained with a sigh when the Tel looked up at her quizzically. "No matter how desperately I tried, or how much I longed for one, with none of them could I bear a child."

"I don't understand what... what does that have to do with me?" He could feel the flicker of heat, of anger, searing his body, as the shock of what had just occurred began to diminish.

She glanced over her shoulder, "It is difficult for me to say." She pursed her lips, and bent down onto one knee. "Either way, you're either going to end up as a captive or you could..." Xenya shrugged curtly.

"You want ME to be your child? That's why you spared me?" Tel'Zen inquired with an edge to his voice, finishing her thought. Adoption was not uncommon; Quarians always had a soft spot for children and the constant warfare left plenty of orphans. But, to have the same Quarian who killed the orphan's parents adopt said orphan? It was very rare, for obvious reasons.

"Smart lad." She said as she stroked his cheek softly with the back of her hand, he flinched at her touch. "Yes. That's partially the reason why I spared you. The other reason is that..." She paused and gave him a curious smile. "There is an air about you, that you will grow up to do great things. Very great things."

Tel stared at the dusty ground, as if attempting to see through it. "My clan has been destroyed. It doesn't seem like I have much of a choice if I want to survive..." He gritted his teeth, the flicker of anger sparking into an ember.

Xenya frowned, sensing the hostility in his voice, "No, it would appear that you do not."

Tel felt the ember of anger die out in his heart to be replaced by the cold, icy misery. A thousand thoughts were racing through his head, after today, he knew that no matter what he chose, his entire world would be different. There would be no father to kiss him goodnight, or tell him the stories of warriors, of Gods. There would be no mother to protect him, to scare away all the bad things and make him feel safe. There was only this kneeling stranger who hadn't killed him because she needed him. There would be no sister...

His eyes widened, "But, where is my sister?" He asked suddenly, with a sense of urgency.

Her kind demeanor once again faltered, thrown by this odd question, "I do not know. There were many other warriors like me. She could've been captured, she might be..." She stated definitively as her voice drifted off.

"Dead?" Tel'Zen finished.

Xenya wanted to say no, that there was no chance of that happening, but her eyes told Tel'Zen the truth. He began to sob quietly at the thought that he was truly alone, that no one he knew was left breathing.

She crouched down on one knee until she was eye level with Tel'Zen, "Hey," She said as she rested a hand on his shoulder, "We will look for your sister, and if we find her alive, then she can be with us, be a part of our family, our clan."

"Swear?" He said through hot tears. He began wiping the salty tears off of his face with the back of his hand.

She held one of her hands up, "I swear on my clan's honor that we will look for your sister." Swearing on a Clan's honor is an unbreakable vow. The punishment for breaking such an oath was dishonor, shame for the clan, and oftentimes exile from the clan, if not death.

Tel'Zen, knowing the strength of the vow and what it entailed, curtly nodded his head. "I will accompany you, Xenya." He whispered weakly, he prayed that his mother and father would find some way to forgive him, wherever they were.

"Good lad." She said as she ruffled his hair, her two fingers sliding through his thick black mane. Tel'Zen couldn't help but remember that that's what his mother would do. He swallowed down the memory without a single tear. She stood up, "We should leave now. My other clan mates will start to get worried if we remain here for too long." Tel'Zen once again nodded, this time more reluctantly. He wondered how much different their clan was from his for a brief instant.

His pondering was interrupted when she grabbed the boy's hand and led him out of his dwelling, and ultimately, leaving everything behind that he'd ever known. As they trekked, the wind blew harshly against his face, the particles stinging his cheeks and uncovered portions of his body. He wished that he had something to protect his face against the elements. But he did not complain.

As they trekked, Kaeli'Steiz was beating down, already heating the land to incredible temperatures, even in the early morning. He raised his arm to his brow in order to shield his eyes from the menacing heat and light. But he did not complain.

As they trekked, Tel'Zen found his throat parched for water, the life giver necessary for all beings, in response to the arid desert air which was sucking him dry of this precious nectar. But he did not complain.

As they trekked, Tel'Zen's feet dug into the sandy ground, leaving an imprint which was quickly covered by the desert wind. It did not help that the sand was already hot, burning his tender feet and bringing constant suffering. But he did not complain.

He was fearful of Xenya, but he didn't show it, not visibly at least. But under the surface, he still questioned her motives, especially why she so desperately needed a child. ' _Well, at least she hasn't hurt me._ ' Trying his best to reassure himself, it would only hurt him to dwell on the bad thoughts. He sated his wandering mind with the fact that he'd probably know soon enough. Also, he anxiously awaited to know whether or not his sister had survived. He briefly gazed up at Kaeli'Steiz, its radiance glowing brighter than a million torches, its brilliance unchallenged. He signed in exhaustion as he looked back down to the real world; today was going to be a long day.

It had probably been ten minutes of walking when his legs began to tremble and shift uncontrollably with his stride, his strength waning. The inevitable happened.

He fell.

His body met the dusty ground. He remained on his hands and knees, panting for breath. Xenya stopped as she craned her head around to the sound of him hitting the ground.

"Here." She said as she approached the downed figure. She lifted the small boy off the ground and cradled him in her strong arms. He couldn't help but feel a little bit of admiration on her part. He was a good seventy-five pounds. She was tougher than she looked if she could carry all that weight without even a grunt of exertion. His head rested comfortably against her realk. The harsh wind that had bothered him seemed to fade away. The unscrupulous thirst he'd been feeling, quenched. The scalding ground, no longer a problem. Even Kaeli'Steiz seemed less bright. For a time, he felt safe, safer than he had felt in a long time. That nothing could possibly hurt him. He basked in this new found feeling as he casually observed his surroundings. Then he remembered, he remembered the expression on his parents face. He gnashed his teeth together at the painful memory. ' _I'm a traitor, how could I possibly think that I'm safe when I watched her kill my parents? I've betrayed my own clan. Please, forgive me mother. Forgive me father.'_

He could see the ocean from this vantage point; waves rushed up and down the shoreline, swirling and roaring as they crashed down on the sandy beach. It released a gentle breeze which lightly brushed Tel's hair.

He vaguely recalled falling asleep in her arms due to the serenity of the environment. He slept soundly.

He did not know how much time had passed before he cracked open his eyes again. It could've been an hour, or just a few minutes. Although, he was inclined to believe that it was the latter. They ran into a group of warriors, obviously from the same clan as Xenya, since they had similar markings. There were several animals with them, along with some males which looked to be a part of the Zen clan.

"Xenya, what's that you got there?" One of the women said, pointing to the bundle of white-gray flesh and cloth in Xenya's arms.

"Sae, His name is Tel'Zen. I think I've finally found one to call my own." She announced proudly as she cradled him in her arms like an infant. Sae bent down until she was eye level with Tel. She began cooing at the young boy and pinching his cheeks, much to his embarrassment as he groaned internally. He flushed a dark grey at this treatment and looked up at Xenya as if saying, 'aren't you forgetting something?' She retained her eyes on Sae, "I don't suppose you've captured any young females by any chance?"

Sae shook her head, "Our group did not take any female prisoners, only males. The other two groups may have done differently, however." She added quickly when she saw Tel staring tearfully up at her. "We won't know until we get back to camp."

Xenya nodded for a second then turned to the herd of Sefyck, a powerful four legged herbivorous animal which could brave the desert heat and travel at speeds much greater than that of a Quarian. It stared at Tel curiously as Xenya approached one of the animals. The animal brayed softly to itself as it saw their approach, "Hello, Chikkita," Xenya whispered in the animal's ear. It seemed to recognize the name, as its large ears perked up at the sound of it.

She lifted him up onto the back of the animal, and then she herself climbed atop of it. The animal did not seem to mind the additional weight as it waited patiently for its master's orders.

"Yhaid!" Xenya shouted the Khelish word for 'forward'. The animal set off in a trot as she steered it in the right direction. Tel'Zen put his arms around Xenya's waist for fear of falling off the animal, and eventually fell asleep with his head resting against her back. He had no idea why he was so tired. This morning's events seemed to have drained him of his strength. He dreamed about the life he was leaving behind, how he would always remember his parents, his ancestors that came before his Mother and Father, allowing for him to be born. He dreamed about his sister, how she had always been joyful at every little thing, even at the expense of being a little eccentric. He finally dreamed about what his future life would be like. His mind eventually went blank as he lost track of time and his thoughts wallowed in the nexus of the mind. He slept soundly.

 _Unna: Keelah, it must've been terrifying. Having your parents die in front of you, then the killer adopts you._

 _Zaal: I told you that the beginning is sad. Did you listen? No. Thankfully, Tel'Zen was a brave soul; some people are born to lead. So, as it turns out..._

 _Unna: (Shoving Zaal) Hey! You promised not to ruin it for me!_

 _Zaal: (Reassuringly) all right, all Right. So the next..._


	3. Chapter 2: Road Trip

**Next chapter will be posted on 4/11**

The Ancestors Chapter 2: Road Trip

 _Unna: (snorts) Tel sure does a lot of snoozing._

 _Zaal: Well this "snoozing" is very important to his person. It's said that his dreams were extraordinary, that he had a sense of prescience. His dreams are what led to him changing our very society..._

A dream. Some dare to call it a figment of the imagination. Tel'Zen was no longer sure. He preferred the term vision much better, painting a picture of what was to come in perfect harmony with his mind.

An invasion of images assailed him in his slumber, flooding every corner of his mind to the brim. He could finally See. He saw a city, more sprawling than any he had ever imagined. He saw a group of people, all leaders or chieftains, in a very important meeting, with the focal point being a large, wooden table. He saw... a girl... unlike any he had ever seen before, she was a strange color, but it was a pleasing color. She intrigued him beyond his imagination. He knew that she would be important later in his life. How he knew this, he was unsure. He just knew. The girl faded, replaced by an even larger city than the prior one, along with a vast, glorious empire which encompassed all of Rannoch. It was breathtaking...

As soon as the dreams had been onset, a jolt rocked the beast, interfering with the dream's advance.

Tel'Zen reluctantly blinked awake from his slumber, lifting his head slowly off from its resting position on Xenya's back. Evidently, she hadn't minded or she herself was asleep to let him use her back as a pillow, it didn't matter to him he was more concerned about the onslaught of images that had assaulted his mind. 'That was... powerful... more powerful than any other dream I had before...' Never before had one of his dreams been so clear on its meaning. Generally, all he got were feelings and sometimes vague images which plagued his mind.

He yawned a toothy yawn, shattering the silence of twilight, the time when everything in the desert became... alive. He looked around at the dusty ground and into the brilliantly colored sky. Kaeli'Steiz was just about to set, and it was nearly pitch black. The other things illuminating the desert were one of Rannoch's moons, Cayzl'Steiz, and a very dim, flickering light, originating from the direction that the caravan was headed. An unknown object.

Tel could not for the life of him figure out what the other source of light was to which the Caravan was headed. Tel struggled to look over her shoulders, grunting softly as his feet scratched and itched the sides of the animal, hoping to find purchase on the huge beast.

His next thought was on his parents. He remembered in a flash how his parents would always joke about his undying curiosity. How it always used to get him in some sort of trouble. Yet, they had supported his urges to explore and discover with great enthusiasm. In another flash, the same painful memory of their corpses brought a tear to his eye. He'd never ever get to hear them chuckle to themselves when they found him in some odd predicament that he had no doubt gotten himself into, or watch them smile a knowing smile at one another. He sighed quietly, 'I'll miss you, Ma, Pa.'

Xenya, as awake as the rising moon, turned her head just enough to keep an eye on the squirming Quarian, eagerly attempting to gather a glimpse of guidance from what lie ahead. She said, "Anxious now, are we?" overpowering the noise of his scratching feet. "I was wondering if you'd ever wake up, not many people can rest as soundly as you did on these animals."

Tel froze; he assumed that she was asleep as he had been, and that the animals were just following each other in a single line purely on instinct. Apparently not. "Maybe just a little anxious..." He responded hesitantly.

"Don't worry too much." Xenya reached down to a sack strapped to the beast. After a quick second of rifling through its contents, she pulled out a not entirely perfectly circular object. "You must be starving." She stated, twisting her head about and dropping the object in Tel's open palm.

Tel eyed it with puzzlement, and twisted the object, checking every square centimeter of its surface. He gave it a precautionary sniff, its aroma was very sweet and tangy, and he could feel the crisp outer layer of the succulent, red-orange object.

"It's a fruit, called a Ual, it'll help keep your strength up; trust me, it's good." Xenya explained.

(Ual – A small, sweet fruit that grows wild on bushes along rivers.)

Without further ado, he furiously bit into the object. Only now, could he feel at the pit of his stomach, how famished he was. He was met with a loud crunch, then was rewarded with an overflowing river of sweet, delectable juice, washing out of his mouth and dripping past his lips and down his chin.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "What's that light over yonder?" He asked, pointing directly ahead, swallowing the chunk of fruit and taking another bite of the irresistible delicacy, relinquishing more of its sweet taste from it.

She diverted her gaze away from him and to where he was pointing. "That? That's the great city of Ceystiic, where we have been headed all this time." She answered with fierce pride to her clan's city.

"City?" He tasted the word carefully in his mind, as he did the fruit with his mouth, 'My dream... Wasn't there a city?' He pondered. He was absolutely certain that there was a city somewhere in his vision. It seemed less clear now, as if it were fading away... 'Could my dreams be somehow connected?' It was plausible in his mind; even if they weren't connected, it would still be useful to ask.

He focused, a vague image of the leaders of the separate clans came to mind, his next dream. "Would this city happen to have more than one clan?" When she looked at him with suspicion as to how he knew, "Just curious." He added hurriedly. He felt like he couldn't trust her with his dreams, not yet anyway.

"Yes," her lips were in a nostalgic smile as she continued in a near boastful tone, "my clan's great-matriarch was the one who brought together the seven clans about a hundred years ago, and whose leaders you will soon meet."

The light was getting brighter, torches from Ceystiic, he assumed. "Seven clans? I haven't even heard of two clans managing to live together!" He exclaimed, although, this would make sense, since there had been multiple chieftains in his dream."

"Oh yes, this way is much easier. This way, we don't need to travel long distances to see, or make claim on, a mate. Our city is well defended by seven separate sets of warriors, making us a great power throughout the realm." A soft breeze fluttered along the ground, blowing the desert sand.

Preparing for the onslaught of grainy sand, Tel'Zen braced his eyes shut. He kept them like that for what seemed like an eternity. When no onslaught came, he opened his eyes reluctantly and peered cautiously down at the dark ground. Something was definitely moving down there, he realized, but what?

His eyes finally adjusted to the dark, becoming immensely reflective, almost to the point of glowing, he could finally see what was below him.

Directly under him was a gravelly path, which the animals appeared to be using, and to both sides was a near endless plain of grass along with some hints of irrigation systems.

Xenya, noticing his interest in the nearby flora, pointed out, "We're on the outskirts of Ceystiic. I forgot to mention that it's on a flood plain, meaning that the entire area is alive. This is lush and fertile land." With a smile. "A perfect place for a home."

Tel nodded as a great, tall wooden structure rose up to one side of them - a keep or a watchtower. There was an area at the top that was open and could garrison a few archers. He saw movement at the top, someone carrying a torch with a bow slung around his shoulder and a quiver on his back, filled to the brim with arrows. He ran to something out of Tel's field of view - being back inside the keep.

A metallic clang came from inside, some sort of bell or siren. Tel'Zen looked over Xenya's shoulder with a little help from Xenya, balancing him so he would not fall off. He was met with the sight of a huge stone wall, rushing up to meet them. The wall spanned around the entire perimeter of the city, the second line of defense. Tel could see more archers moving along the top at a very hurried pace, as if preparing for something.

Smack dab in the middle of the wall was a reinforced, wooden door, spanning perhaps three of these animals wide and two high.

As the caravan approached, the heavy, sturdy door creaked outwards, with the very welcoming sight of a crowd, crying and chittering like little birds among themselves. The crowd was located on the main road, mushed between two sets of yellow stone buildings on either side. It was mainly composed of young men, some with small children. A yell of pure joy arose among them at the sight of the women approaching. The first of the great lumbering beasts entered the city.

The beasts ahead of them moved to the side, approaching their respective families. The riders dismounted and Tel could see plenty of blissful hugs and kisses shared with their mates and children. Tel noticed a few families that, after a few minutes, looked grim and utterly anxious to see their mates. As Tel passed by, staring at one particular family whose mate still had not arrived, Tel realized that they might never see her again; that she was lost in the fighting. Tel realized, during this one moment, that war leaves irreplaceable scars. Scars which will never heal. Scars which will always be remembered; that even the victors are left with scars. That war and death, at the hands of another, are pointless.

Tel'Zen bowed his head in reverence and prayed to the Gods that they'd find her amongst the living, even if these clans were technically their enemies who had slaughtered and slain his own clan.

Xenya nudged him, directing his attention to her. He noticed with some alarm that they were the only riders left. Xenya didn't seem to be looking at anyone; rather she was looking straight ahead. She was looking at a building in the center of the city. It was a building which rose above the line of sight of the smaller stone buildings. This building was made of wood and stone, along with some shiny metal which Tel'Zen had to assume was gold, carved into the ornate wooden designs.

"This is the Palace, in all of its grandeur." She said as the beast stopped near the front of it.

Tel'Zen stared in awe at the size and decorative features of the building when he was interrupted by the entrance parting.

Two guards rushed out like a raging bull. "Lady Xenya!" Cried one of them. "Lady Xenya!" They reiterated together as they closed in on the animal. Tel'Zen noted that the guards had a similar armor design to Xenya, having strong armor on the lower legs, on the torso, and chain mail on the upper legs and abdomen. Xenya was slightly more armored than the guards, having plate armor. Although, the guards looked a lot more bulky than Xenya. They also had square-ish helmets, made mainly of orange with purple separating the right and left portion of the helmet. He noted that the Realk of the right guard was purple, exactly like Xenya's. A clan symbol, Tel'Zen mused.

 _Unna: Why am I not surprised that the Zorahs are the clan in charge. When are our ancestors going to show? I want to learn about them!_

 _Zaal: In time, dear. Quite soon, in fact. We caused quite an impact on Tel's life, as you will soon find out. Also, it's not surprising that you wish to learn about your own Ancestors, we do worship them after all._

 _Unna: (with reverence) Blessed be the Ancestors._

 _Zaal: (smiling) That's my girl._

Tel'Zen could only make out the facial structure of the two guards; their helmets and armor were blocking the rest of their bulky, armored bodies. The left guard had large, striking, emerald-green eyes with all the brilliance and luminance as the opulent, green gem. These beautiful eyes seemed to glow without help from the reflective nature of Quarian eyes. Her Realk was green; she had auburn hair, evident from the one strand which fell below the crest of the helmet. Her skin was a vivid violet - the moon's light twinkled off it. She was, at best guess, in her late teens or early twenties, having no scars or wrinkles marking her face. And evidence suggested that she was a novice, having stayed here instead of going on a dangerous raid.

The right guard had two hazel eyes which were alight with the same curiosity as an explorer, even though she was but a simple guard. She had raven black hair, similar to Xenya's, as well as pale gray skin, also similar to Xenya's. In fact, she and Xenya looked very much the same, almost to the point of calling them sisters or cousins. He wondered if she was from Xenya's clan. Hazel-eyes seemed to have the same color Realk as Xenya, furthering his belief of them being related.

Half a second later, Tel'Zen's mind finally caught up to what the guards were saying. He shot a glance at Xenya faster than a shooting star across the night sky, 'Lady Xenya?' He mouthed at her, disbelief haunted his eyes.

Sighing and not bothering to pay attention to Tel, Xenya dropped to the side of the animal with a thud before turning towards the marauding guards. "What is it?" She asked monotonously, as if this had happened many times before.

"The Matriarch requests your presence immediately." Said the guard on the right, wasting no time in her explanation. She had a nasally voice which was easily identifiable and was panting profusely from that short run. Tel'Zen could sympathize with her lack of breath - carrying forty pounds of armor was hard work.

Xenya remained silent as she looked back over her shoulder at Tel'Zen, his eyes pleading her to get off of this... thing. Sensing his discomfort, she turned to him, her arms outstretched. Tel'Zen scooted off the Sefyck and landed perfectly in her outstretched arms.

"Lady Xenya, the Matria-" Said the guard on the left in annoyance when Xenya seemed in no hurry to hustle.

"Mother can wait." She bit back with as much disapproval into her voice as she could muster.

This simple outburst, while short, had an immediate effect on Tel's person. His eyebrows rose, "Your mother is the Matriarch?" He inquired softly so that the guards could not hear, still in her arms.

"Yes," she said, setting him down. "I'll explain," then, growling at the guards, "in private."

Tel'Zen realized that this was the first time he had ever seen her acting like this, not surprising due to their relatively short relationship. He realized only now that he knew literally nothing about her, except for her clan, her city, and that she was the second most powerful person in the all of Ceystiic. He had previously thought of her as a nice woman, even if she had... killed his parents. Maybe he was wrong, maybe she had just been trying to get him to come with her, not that he had had much of a choice. 'Or,' he thought, 'she dislikes her mother, or is trying to prove something to her...'

"Lady Xenya." Nasally, as Tel'Zen knew the left guard by, growled back with menace. "If you don't cooperate, then we will be forced to escort you."

"Coming, coming." Xenya said with a lazy wave of her hand, surely in no hurry to obey. She gestured back at Tel'Zen, "Follow my lead. Don't stray." Her voice indicated that she was not pleased at all, but the eager bounce in her step suggested otherwise.

Tel'Zen followed her, cautiously looking up in trepidation at the two guards. The moonlight reflected off their helmets, and they were both staring down at him. Scrutiny was apparent in their eyes as to where this boy came from.

Before the guards could come to a conclusion, Tel'Zen quickened his pace and began following as close as he could behind Xenya, like a calf would to its mother.

'Nasally' diverted her bemused expression towards her companion. "I wonder who the boy is? And why is he with Lady Xenya?" Although she said this in a tone which clearly said that she did not care.

Her companion only shrugged. "I don't know, and I don't care. Let's just make sure they don't lose their way to the Matriarch, or else she'll have our heads."

Nasally just nodded in assent as she and her companion moved to follow Lady Xenya and the strange little boy, still clutching the delicious fruit, whose reason for being here was unknown by everyone except Xenya...

They all walked through the heavy wooden doors to the world of politics, clan rivalries, and war.

 _Unna: Something tells me that this meeting with the Matriarch did not go as Tel would think that it would._

 _Zaal: (Hesitantly) Xenya was a... mysterious character for him at this point, and ultimately would influence this meeting and its turnout._

 _Unna: I'm guessing that she had a hidden agenda for Tel? But what could a person of her stature need from him?_

 _Zaal: Oh, trust me, she had big plans. Very big plans. Plans for herself, plans for Ceystiic, and plans for the entire world. But... ambition can get the better of anyone. Like myself, and like Xenya..._

 ** _Beta-read by Druzhik_**


	4. Chapter 3: The Meeting

**Unfortunately, I have finals next week and the week after, the next chapter will be released by the end of the month**

 **Also, big thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited this story! :D**

 **Chapter 3: The Meeting**

The four walked through the wooden corridors, surprisingly well furnished with tapestries and furniture. The corridor was lit by flickering torches, spreading a soft, luminous light dancing along the walls. Tel'Zen held onto the cloth on Xenya's lower Realk- her upper thigh. It was dead silent was interrupted by the crackling of the nearby torches, the creaking, unexpectedly damp wood underneath them, or the unpredictable cries from outside which were just audible enough to hear.

Tel'Zen noticed a low mumbling noise getting progressively louder as they got closer to their destination; the smell of something sweet and feminine tainted the air. They turned a corner, Tel'Zen noticed that on his left that there was a single entrance of double doors leading to the inner chambers of the town hall. Once the group had reached it, Xenya stopped and Tel with her. From this distance, it was easy to tell that voices were emanating from inside.

Xenya gave a cursory glance around at the nearby tapestries and decor, and turned until she was facing the door. The guards moved to either side of the doorway, directly next to one of the doors. Preparing for what was inside, Xenya lightly brushed the dust and creases off of her Realk and smoothed her hair back to make herself look more presentable. Tel'Zen glanced up to Xenya. She was taking in deep breaths in order to calm herself. Finally, grabbing onto Tel's hand tightly, she looked ready for whatever was inside.

'Something's not right here.' Tel thought, clenching his free hand firmly. He felt like he had walked into a Sek'het's den; the large carnivorous animal with a gaping maw which could swallow a Quarian whole. He shuddered at the thought of so many pointed teeth, and its clawed paws.

She nodded to the two guards. They swung the wooden double doors open with a loud creaking noise and Xenya burst through.

The first thing that hit Tel was a wave of that sickly sweet smell, almost unbearable in the main chamber. The next thing were ten sets of eyes, fixated on both him and Xenya.

Seven of these were adults, all female, with three children standing to the right of their respective parent. Startled by the newcomers, all but one of the adults stood up, outrage burning in their body posture, which Xenya absorbed with frigid calmness. The three children looked at the two newcomers with mild interest, as one would observe a small insect, before ignoring them, incredibly bored by this entire ordeal. The ten were all situated around a long wooden table and each one had a definite look, Realk color, and position.

The figure at the end of the table tapped her fingers impatiently at desk. She was the only one who did not stand, possibly expecting such an interruption.

She was approximately fifty years of age, wear and tear beginning to take hold of her wind-whipped face; an effect of spending too much time being exposed to strong desert gusts. She was missing an ear, something Tel almost missed since her frayed hair covered it so perfectly. Her Realk was a solid purple color with white spirals at intermediate positions. Several bands of gold decorated her arm, a gold neck brace, and a jewel encrusted Pal'tec vis Surden - a marriage amulet, all signs of her superiority.

"Please," eyes never leaving Xenya, she said with a gesture towards the other end of the rectangular table, - the furthest seat from her - her eyes both challenging and welcoming her. "Take a seat, Xenya."

Xenya looked back at her, undaunted. She pulled back the chair and slouched into it, all the while Tel never left her side nor let go of her hand. As long as he held onto her hand, he'd be safe, he reasoned. It had served him well thus far.

"Leave us." The Matriarch commanded arbitrarily and with absolute certainty as to her superior position to the two guards. With a bow, Nasally and her friend departed.

The door screeched closed with a resounding metallic CLICK. "Excuse my daughter," the Matriarch said nonchalantly with a glance at those still standing up, as if her interruption were not a big deal. Those still standing took this as a cue to return to their seats. "She has come a long way, and has obviously forgotten her manners." She snidely remarked.

"It depends, Mother." Xenya shot back, "At least I would have had the decency to wait for everyone before the meeting was called to session."

"It hardly matters." The Matriarch countered diplomatically, "None of what we were discussing prior to your arrival concerned you anyway."

"That's where you're wrong," Xenya snorted, "or have you forgotten why you need a regent?"

"Not another word," the Matriarch said quietly, with a very apparent steely edge to her voice. "Now..." She said, glaring at her daughter for a second more, "where were we?"

And then the Elders - the clan leaders and the civic leaders- all but forgotten about the recent newcomers, resumed their previous conversation. Tel'Zen leaned in and whispered to Xenya. "What is this?"

"This," she whispered back, "is a meeting among the clans; very good timing, might I add. Now, pay close attention." She whispered back. "You're going to need this." For what reason he would need this information was lost on Tel'Zen, but he gave her his undivided attention regardless. "Our city is made up of the Zorah clan, the Gerrel clan, the Koris clan, the Lakko clan, the Raan clan, the Reegar clan, and the Vael clan. There are more clans of course, but they are mainly traders and merchants, and they are not big enough to be represented in the Council." With a glance around the room, "These are the leaders for those seven clans which have earned a spot, as you probably guessed, our Elders. You will address them as such." Xenya raised an eyebrow at Tel, "Do you understand?"

"Okay..." he said, as if he understood, this concept of clans working together in such close proximity was alien to him. 'Call these people Elders, got it.'

"Good," Xenya discreetly pointed at the one on their left, "That is Ayn'Gerrel, leader of the Gerrels, and her son, Jon'Gerrel. Their clan helped found this city and they are known for their brave warriors." Then, she growled lowly, glaring at Ayn, menace apparent. "They've been causing some trouble recently in regards to whose leadership the clans should follow, because of our Matriarch's disabilities." She said all of this with the speed and grace of an arrow, leaving Tel behind in the dust.

When she noticed that Tel'Zen was gawking at her like one would gawk at a fire or a bright light, she sighed with exasperation, shook her head, and rubbed her forehead with her fingers and thumb. "You're too young, you'll understand in time." She reassured.

Tel shot a quick glance at the armored female, Ayn. Ayn was an interesting figure to behold, with many tattoos (mainly face paint), war scars, and a very elaborate plate chest, albeit dented and lusterless from seeing years of combat. Ayn's hair was a greasy black with dull, light blue eyes which shimmered like coastal water, but her eyes had undercurrents of craftiness and wisdom, needed for a military leader. Her silver Pal'tec vis Surden dangled loosely around her neck, obviously not caring where it was. Ayn'Gerrel's Realk had two wide bands of black stretching along the red fabric surrounding her body.

The scarcely armored boy standing to the right of Ayn, following every beck and call of his mother, Tel assumed was Jon. Jon was a spitting image of his mother minus the age and wrinkled face, free of all fat and with a strong jaw; had a Realk identical to his mother. He was a handsome boy, tall, slender, and with pearly, pointed teeth. He had a fine, thin brow which looked almost feminine in nature, but that didn't detract from his appearance in the slightest, in fact it almost seemed to add to his piercing blue eyes, filled with subservience and friendliness.

Continuing on, Xenya nodded to the one female on her right, "That's Palla'Raan, leader of the Raan clan. She's our religious leader." Shaking her head and smiling at some inside joke which happened between the two, thousands of years ago. "I remember that there was this onetime..." She froze, the smile gone now, "that's a story for a later day."

Elder Raan was the only Elder wearing a hood over her head, and the only Elder not wearing a marriage amulet, but her figure did not suggest that she was reclusive in any way. In fact, her bright, twinkling eyes, bursting with ideas and love, and smile she hid underneath the hood made her seem like she could be gregarious and quite open. She wielded long robes, reserved for modesty rather than protection, being the dutiful clergy she was. Her clan Realk was a white swirling pattern on a purple base. Also, a long wooden staff was resting against the head of her chair.

Xenya turned to the two Quarians next to Palla, who were in a deep conversation on something unrelated to the current one. "That's Fae'Lakko and her daughter, Elli'Lakko. The Lakkos provide some of the best merchants and traders in the entire Realm."

Fae was easily the largest of the Elders at the table, not incredibly noticeable but one could see the rolls of fat that skimmed her stomach. She seemed to enjoy extravagance, wielding several jewel encrusted rings, as well as the latest in fashion. Money was easy to come by for the city's steward, and she obviously liked to show it off. She was a white haired Quarian, most peculiar, her hair lacking any color at all, making it appear like a sheet of salt which were sometimes on the surface of the desert. Fae was, other than her figure, hair, and a desire for wealth, (a typical Quarian).

He instead decided to observe Fae's daughter, Elli, whom there was nothing 'typical' about. He squinted at her... he had seen her before... he could sense the spark of recognition but it was just out of reach. 'Something about yellow skin... But from where?' He made a mental note to come back to her later.

 _Unna: (Shifting uncomfortably) Oh, the Lakkos are in this?_

 _Zaal: (Nodding) Yep! You know them?_

 _Unna: (Insolently) Of course I know them! Vhett and I go to school together... His parents are already renowned throughout Rannoch... And we kinda do stuff together sometimes. He's actually really nice... (Trailing off)_

 _Zaal: (Examining Unna, rubbing his mask thoughtfully) Hm... I didn't know that you even knew him personally...I mean you've never mentioned Vhett before... Do you, perhaps, have a crush on him?_

 _Unna: (Indignantly, her face blushing lightly) What?! No! Why would you even say that?!_

 _Zaal: (With a sly smile) Oh, so you do! (Pinching her cheek) Look, my little girl's got her first crush!_

 _Unna: (Now blushing furiously, knocking away the hand) Can we please get back to the story..._

 _Zaal: (Still smiling) Of course..._

Xenya pointed at a short, stout woman next to the Gerrels'. "That's Serul'Reegar, leader of the Reegars. They're darn fine builders, architects, and very good at any job or skill they are assigned to do. Jack-of-all-trades if you will." She was characterized by a red and golden Realk and carried around an honest, kind face. Her form was swelled with pride for her people and her status, such pride was abundant in her chest and stance, making her seem taller and puffed outwards. She had an atypical color of Quarian hair, a fiery red-orange which seemed to illuminate the entire room like a torch. She wore clothes which were a very loose fit on her. Why she would wear such clothes in a desert was beyond him, because it was more likely to whip out of control.

'She has a marriage amulet,' Tel thought as his eyes surveyed the room like a merchant browsing wares,' but no children?' His eyes rested on a slight... bulge near her stomach, somewhat masked by the loose clothing. Before his clan had been destroyed, he had noticed some women had had similar bulges like the one that Elder Reegar was trying to hide. He noticed her intently looking down at her stomach, rubbing it, even once cooing softly at it.

Tel'Zen suppressed a confused grin, 'Females are weird,' he decided, 'why would someone coo at their own stomach? Note to self: Ask Xenya about the bulge.'

"You know, it's not polite to stare," Xenya whispered in Tel'Zen's ear. "Manners, Tel." Tel, not knowing precisely where to look, lowered his chin and stared at his feet.

Moving onto the group on the left of the Matriarch, whose mother was bickering with the Gerrels over some silly matter, witty banter flying between the two like volleys of arrows. Her daughter was listening closely to the conversation he assumed because of her cocked head. "That's Yual'Koris and her daughter, Sera'Koris. The Koris' specialize in archery and foreign affairs..." Both were a plain pale gray color. Yual had dark black hair, while Sera had brown hair; both had a pink-white Realk, the pattern shaped like a cross. He paid little attention to Yual, but Sera was a different story.

Sera was roughly his age, maybe a few months off, Tel observed. She carried herself with quiet calmness, as if all were right in the world. Sera was a short, small girl, coming up to perhaps Tel's shoulder, but her features did suggest some athleticism, being that she was thin and had strong legs. Strangely, she was smiling, in fact the only one smiling in the room. She had fine eyebrows, adding perfectly to her eyes, which glowed silver, sparkling and shining like the precious mineral; suggesting that she had a happy upbringing and a curiosity as well as kindness in all things. He had to concede that she was quite pretty as well.

While he took note of her features, he noticed Sera's eyes would suddenly drift towards his direction, then just as quickly snap back, which Tel found peculiar. By the way she had been looking at him; he guessed that she was just examining his strange Faysakt, that's what people tended to notice first. Although, this seemed somehow different... Tel shook his head, 'Whatever.' He thought before moving onto Elli.

The rest of Xenya's droning on about 'the Viels? The Haels? Who cares?' was lost on Tel as he discreetly watched Elli. She looked incredibly bored in all the proceedings and found no interest in the ongoing conversation between her mother, talking in hushed tones to the nearby Elder Reegar. She was curious... strangely colored, an extremely rare yellow, one only told in legends or myths. She had, what looked to be, purple-black hair - well groomed to the point of shimmering. She wasn't exceptionally tall, but her body was strong. Judging from her sculpted muscles, it looked as if she'd spent her entire life preparing her body for combat and war. Even so, she was not much older than Tel, because he could tell that she had not yet reached maturity; she looked only about a year older than him. She had a symmetrical faysakt curving gracefully along the contours of her face. As he watched her, a vague feeling, an inexplicable sensation, arose. One which said that he was right - that she, this girl, looked familiar, very familiar, as if he'd seen her before, the same feeling that he had felt when he first laid eyes on her.

'Of course!' He thought as realization struck him like lightning. 'She's the girl from my dream!'

"Tel'Zen!" Xenya said in an irritable whisper, interrupting his moment of revelation, "did you even listen to what I said about Elder Vael?"

Tel blinked at her, "Um... Yes..." Tel'Zen lied hastily, his eyes darting to Elder Vael, a short woman who was only about as tall as Tel, with beady eyes and an evasive attitude. Tel shifted uncomfortably in his position. "Um... you said..." Thankfully, or rather unthankfully, the Matriarch interrupted his swiftly made up story.

The Matriarch leaned forward, resting both of her elbows on the wooden table, and then spoke in such a loud voice that it ceased all ongoing discussions. "Daughter, tell us, how was the raid? We're dying to know." A few smirked at the pun, Elder Gerrel chuckled. All eyes were fixed on Xenya.

With a glance over at Tel'Zen, gauging how he would react, she began her report, "The raid was fine, mother. The clan was pillaged and ransacked, as per orders." She informed calmly and monotonously, making it clear that she had been following someone else's orders.

The Matriarch could not care less about her report, instead her eyes were fixed on Tel'Zen. "Just who is this boy?" She inquired, gesturing out with her hand towards him, bringing attention to Tel. Attention which he'd rather go without.

Resting her hands on the table, Xenya stood to her full height, practically demanding attention be brought to her. She cleared her throat, "This," she announced, Tel felt a hand gently touch his shoulder, Xenya's hand. "Is Tel'Zen. He's a boy from the village we raided. He was... orphaned during the raid and I've decided..." She gave a melodramatic pause, breathing in deeply, and exhaling. The room was so silent that Tel could hear the crackling of the nearby torches. "I've decided to take him in as my own son." She said quickly and without stuttering. Tel shrunk back and seemed to lose a foot in height as he attempted to make himself seem as unthreatening as possible.

The room was silent in response to this information, but the tension in the air was so thick that Tel would almost have been able to physically cut through it with a knife. Tel'Zen began to sweat nervously under the heated gaze of the Matriarch. The question buzzing in everyone's mind was, why?

Ayn'Gerrel was the first to come to a conclusion. Slamming her fist into the table, the warrior shot up, her other hand touching her sheathed sword. "This is an outrage! You cannot do this to us!" She screeched, pointing an accusing finger at Xenya. "You Zorahs, always trying to find a way to remain in power." She spat with repulsion. "Now it's OUR turn, and there's nothing that can stop it."

"Excuse me?" Standing as well, Elder Koris questioned with disbelief to what Elder Gerrel had just said, "Who dictated YOUR clan as the next leaders?"

"The Gerrels helped found the city, Koris. That's certainly-"

"That's quite enough!" The Matriarch said with a sigh, she snapped her head to Elder Gerrel. "Compose yourself, Elder Gerrel. You too, Elder Koris. I will not have this alliance crumble due to infighting." She said calmly with an undertone of threat, interrupting Gerrel and shrewdly ending the ongoing debate. "Now, sit." Making it clear that it WAS an order, and that she expected those of a lower rank to follow it.

Elder Koris and Elder Gerrel gradually complied, although their eyes were fiercely fixed on their opponent, still battling and at each other's throats mentally.

"Bring me the boy." Matriarch Zorah commanded.

Tel glanced out of the corner of his eye at Xenya, his fear becoming more and more pronounced with each passing second.

Xenya let go of his hand and scooted him away from her, "Go. Go." She whispered to him, waving him on.

Tel'Zen gulped anxiously and took slow , steady steps around the perimeter of the table. Tel could feel all of those eyes boring into him, scrutinizing him, judging him. He could feel them tracing along his alien faysakt, wondering to themselves how such an irregularity could occur. He looked down at the ground for some refuge against all those prying, judging eyes.

After what seemed like an eternity of being judged by the most powerful women in the city, he finally managed to make it to the Matriarch.

He stopped, just out of reach the Matriarch's arms, biting his lower lip in anxiety, sneaking glances up at her from time to time.

"Come on, don't be shy." She said softly, patting her lap.

He kept his eyes on the ground and complied. He took two steps forward, until he was directly beside where the Matriarch was seated.

He felt himself being moved onto her lap. He groaned inwardly as he was subjected to this embarrassment in front of the entire assembly. He felt a hand on his jaw; his eyes flew to the waiting face of the Matriarch, her eyes probing him thoroughly, examining his strange faysakt. He felt two of her cold, weathered fingers trace along his unsymmetrical faysakt - fingering the two dark lines on the left of his face and the one line on the right. Tel shuddered from the sensation; her fingers were bone-chillingly cold.

"Hm." She grunted. "I've never seen anyone born with this deformity before..." She murmured with special emphasis on the word deformity to herself. She looked up at Xenya, while idly stroking Tel's raven-black hair. "If you expect him to have a chance at becoming a chieftain, or a Patriarch then he must train and compete with the others."

Before Xenya even had a chance to respond, "Oh please!" Said Elder Koris with contempt and indignation to the very thought. "A boy has never been a chieftain before, he'll never have the strength to lead. A male leader will bring about the death of this alliance."

Ayn placed both her hands on the table, using them to prop herself up. "If either of our boys can't lead, Koris," Elder Gerrel growled with enmity, glancing at Xenya for support, "then you should have nothing to worry about." Her lips curled into a cruel smile as she silently mocked her prey with her eyes, intimidating and challenging Koris to continue.

"But this boy isn't even part of the clans!" Elder Vael pointed out, only serving to annoy Xenya further. "Now, we have an elective succession, and a competition between the eligible chieftains, but this is going too far to allow someone who's not part of the bloodline to compete!"

"There are no expressed rules against it; he is part of the clans, he's MY son." Xenya responded, thrusting a thumb at her own chest for emphasis. "Adopted or not, he should be recognized as such." She continued, still irritated, "he's old enough, he's strong enough, and I'm certain his resolve is firm."

Right when Elder Vael was about to come up with some witty retort about how the politics in this city work, "Then it's decided," Matriarch Zorah interrupted, clapping her hands together loudly. After which, she rested her hands upon the table and stood up. "Tel'Zen will join the ranks of those eligible to become the next Matriarch or Patriarch." With a nod and a wave of her hand, "You are all dismissed." Then, at Xenya and Tel, "training will begin promptly at dawn with Quartermaster Kel'Reegar. Don't be late." Tel'Zen didn't know what this training could encompass, but he was certain that his muscles would be put to the limit and that his entire body would be screaming for rest.

The Elders and their children mumbled a farewell to one another before exiting, departing to rest at their own homes with their own families and leave the troubles of the day behind for tomorrow, when they'd be doing the same thing again.

Xenya nodded back, "Don't worry, we won't. Come, Tel." She said with a stifled yawn; it was getting very late. "Let me show you to your room." Her eyes were a mix of relief and one of requiring rest.

Tel breathed a sigh of relief and was more than happy to remove himself from Matriarch Zorah's lap, which he promptly did.

Tel approached Xenya, who was reaching her hand out to him, intent on him to take it. He did take it once close enough, the warmth of her hand overtaking his own, but not uncomfortably so.

"I wish you the best of luck." A voice said from behind, one belonging to the Matriarch. "Trust me, you're going to need it." She said with a sly grin and a low chuckle.

Tel felt Xenya squeeze his hand with anger momentarily then, just as swiftly, it relaxed. They turned to leave with the other Elders.

"Ignore her." She whispered, pushing the heavy, wooden doors open.

Tel raised his eyebrows in bemusement; Xenya looked down onto him, "She's frustrated. While she might seem cool and collected on the outside, she's furious." Xenya looked a million miles away, her eyes filling with tears. "She wanted grandchildren of her own flesh and blood so badly." She looked away, a single tear streaming out of her eye. "And I couldn't even give that to her." She shrugged, wiping her cheek with the back of her palm. "She never forgave me, even if it wasn't my fault."

"I stopped caring a long time ago, because this is all just a cruel, despicable joke." She stated cynically. "A joke which refuses to reveal the punch line."

Out of nowhere, Sera appeared, walking into step with Tel and Xenya. "Hi, Tel, I'm Sera." She introduced herself sheepishly. Her voice was quiet, lacking strength but not to the point of meekness. She held out her hand.

"Hi...?" Tel said just as unsurely. Glancing down at her hand, he uneasily took it and shook it once.

Xenya, looking between the two, before saying to Sera, "You should be heading off to bed, Sera." She reprimanded, then more gently, "But, I suppose that you'll want to get to know each other, you will be seeing each other at training for quite a while. I'll give you three minutes." She motioned to a far wall with her head, which to Tel seemed like a million mile hike. "I'll be over there Tel, and I'll be counting." She let go of his hand again. He hated when she did that.

"So..." Sera said once she had his undivided attention and Xenya was a fair distance away. She shifted her beautiful, silver eyes sideways, not meeting his gaze.

A brief silence ensued; Tel wasn't entirely sure what to talk about with her. "So...?" Tel mimicked back.

"So... How'd you get the... You know." She said, touching her left brow with her index finger and pinkie, tracing them from her brow down to her cheek.

"Oh!" Tel exclaimed, understanding what she meant. "You mean these?" Cocking his head to the left to give her a better view, he pointed at the two dark lines which ran parallel to each other, his Faysakt.

"Yes!" Sera exclaimed excitedly, coming off as a little too enthusiastic. "Those!"

Tel shrugged, "I dunno, luck, I suppose. I was born with them. It's not like I got them from somewhere."

"Oh, I've never seen someone born with that..." She brought her eyes up to meet Tel's for the first time and Tel had to restrain himself from stepping backwards.

If he had thought those eyes were beautiful when he couldn't see them, then now when he could see those silver orbs, they were quite possibly the most gorgeous things in the entire world. Her eyes gleamed and sparkled and shimmered and shone and danced and glanced and beamed and glinted and fluttered all at once. It was as if she had sucked up all of the light, energy, power, and beauty of Kaeli'Steiz, and put it into her magnificent, silver eyes.

He must've been standing there gaping at her and looking like a complete idiot for at least ten seconds before Sera finally said with bemusement, "Hey, is something wrong?" Her silver eyes showed worry, genuine concern.

Tel quickly regained his composure, his face tightened up into a nervous smile, "Yes, Yes." He said in a frenzy, still flustered by her eyes. When his brain finally caught up with his mouth, "Erm, I meant no." He added on quickly with a short bark of forced laughter.

"Okay..." She knitted her fine eyebrows.

He searched his mind for possible topics to talk about, but all that came up was a whole lot of nothing. He was dumbstruck by her and honestly didn't know what to say, he wanted to ask her about her eyes, but was afraid of being rude. So, instead, he let the silence continue.

Thankfully, rescue arrived. "Time's up, children!" Xenya said, coming from behind Tel and placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure it's way past both of your bed times." Xenya let loose a belated yawn, cupping a hand to her mouth, "Mine as well." She stated, smacking her lips.

"Alright, it was a pleasure to meet you, Tel." Sera said with a curt nod and with a wave of her hand, "I'll see you tomorrow!" She performed a perfect about face, and headed off in the direction of the main entrance.

"Bye..." Tel said, his voice drifting off into nothingness. Tel was sure he that he had met someone beforehand whom Sera reminded him of, he just couldn't place his finger on it.

 _Zaal: (smiling, hits her shoulder playfully) Looks like you aren't the only one with a certain crush._

 _Unna: (Annoyed, pushes away her father's hand with a roll of her eyes) I never said I had a crush on him! We just hang out together, that's all._

 _Zaal: (Pondering for a brief moment then teasingly) Alright, but just remember: If you kiss a boy, you have to get bonded to him._

 _Unna: (Her cheeks darken into a gray color, she hides her face in her hands) By the Ancestors, father! You're seeing things where there are none! (Sighs) Keelah, let's just keep on going._

 _(Zaal reluctantly complies)_

Tel'Zen was still pondering this as he and Xenya headed to the wooden staircase, leading up to the second floor. "Mihrea," he whispered underneath his breath, he couldn't believe that he had almost forgotten about her. He felt as if a sword had ran him through. 'Survivor's guilt' his mind told him, 'no, no, no. You don't know whether she's dead or not. She could be alive...'

Xenya took a few steps up the staircase, the wood creaking violently, before realizing that Tel was not following her.

Xenya looked back over her shoulder to the watered-over eyes of Tel'Zen, close to weeping.

"Xenya, what about Mihrea?" He asked softly, a type of question which brought Xenya back to the moment; to this child which was, frankly, still a child. He was a child with feelings, a child which needed to be nurtured, one which needed to be protected and trained for her plans to come to fruition; he needed someone to love him, because he had no one.

She, at that exact moment, knew how to proceed. She slowly, calmly descended down the stairs to the small boy, staring down at his feet, trembling ever so slightly, and whimpering ever so softly.

She knelt in front of him, resting a hand underneath his head and lifting his chin until his striking blue orbs were gazing into hers.

"I swore on my clan's honor that I'd discover what happened to your sister. It's a promise I intend to keep." She smiled, "but it's too late. Tomorrow I'll start. Is that okay?" Deep down inside, she hoped that his sister was okay. She really did. But, the sensible side of her dreaded that even if she were alive, Xenya might never find her.

Tel'Zen nodded, blinking tears away from his eyes.

"It's been a long day," she cooed, "come with me." Grabbing his hand, she led him up the stairs to his new room, in his new life.

Tel didn't remember getting into a cot, but the next thing he knew, he was staring at the empty blackness of the wooden ceiling, head resting on a soft ball of pelt. The only source of light was coming from an open hole in the wall. Cayzl'Steiz was watching Tel'Zen carefully from the sky, its glorious brightness shining down unto him.

A figure moved between him and the light, its silhouette smiling. It knelt down beside the bed. Tel'Zen continued his blank stare into the dark.

"Sweet dreams, Tel'Zen." The shadow said softly. In his peripheral vision he saw the figure lean in. Warm lips pressed against his forehead.

He lay there, unblinking as he listened to the sound of footsteps getting softer, a door swinging open and close, and then absolute silence. He basked in the still silence and mused, 'This doesn't seem real... It seems like a dream... I'll wake up and be back with Ne'Vade and Ne' Vare any second... It must be a dream. It has to be a dream.' However, he sincerely didn't wish that Sera nor Xenya nor Elli were dreams, but he'd much rather go back to the way things were. Back when things made sense. This was too unrealistic to be true.

(Ne – My, Vade – Father, Vare – Mother)

He wasn't sure when the notion of sleep took hold of his mind, but his eyelids fluttered before slowly drooping until they were closed, embracing the darkness of the still night.

'It has to be...'


End file.
